Chapter 1, Day 1 Morning: The Witchwood

"Show me again, Zaris, come on" Corban asked the wizard pleadingly. "Think about it, the frost will feel good in this blasted heat! Last time all I could conjur up was a snowflake!, I know you think it was just a bead of sweat, but I'm telling you, it felt genuinely cold!"

The last month had been a long, boring walk. There was only so much entertainment to be drawn from crude pranks at Kaiaka's expense, the paladin had shown that he wouldn't tolerate such behaviours. Corban had mainly passed the time harassing Zaris to to teach him some things about magic. It had always intrigued him, and had things gone differently in his youth, he may have ended up in robes instead of chain mail.

Their journey led them toward a supposed treasure vault. There was nothing like treasure to bring a group of adventurers together, regardless of their philosophies on how the world worked. And in this case all they were operating on was an ancient map provided by a surprisingly helpful wererat. Things should pick up once they crossed the river and entered the Witchwood, at the very least they ought to find some shade from this awful heat.


Corban turned to the new recruit to their rambling band of adventurers, Xara. "So Xara, tell me again about that time the barbarians had you strung up, it cracks me up every time. For a bunch of free spirits, those nomads can be real hard-asses when it comes to their stuff."

Meditation. It's a daily reminder to me at the temple and a necessity in the outside world. I've tried to learn patience, but such childish pranks tested me so! I'm fairly certain they got satisfaction when my tail twitched.
[OOC: The voice of Dinobot from Transformers: Beast Wars came to mind during that little rant, for some strange reason.]
I do my best to remember these are not personal attacks but some twisted form of friendship.
At any rate, despite the addition of a thief to our group, this journey has brought me closer to Tyr. He has granted me magic to better seek justice in this world.
I barely contain a sneer when the conversation turns toward the new group member. I would be watching her - closely.

I smile, basking in the attention. A young bard by the name of Panril once told me 'a true Queen of Thieves should never tell her tales more than once for they are meant to be told and retold by countless others. That's how Legends are born.' Well, aren't I on my way to becoming a legend? Too bad I've already broken that rule 4 times this journey alone. I'm going to need more stories.

I roll my eyes dramatically. "Again, Corb? Aren't you sick of that story by now? They had it coming, that's all I have to say about that! Stringing me up like a prized pig over a spit. Ruuuuuuude."

I yawn, stretching out my arms as I take in our surroundings. Not much has changed. Even the trees are all starting to look the same to me. "You know, I thought this trip would be a little more interesting. It's all talking... and walking... and not a decent mark the whole way over here! You sure we're going the right way?"

"No, you need to concentrate on the inner sense much more Corban," Zaris says to his friend. He stops his walk and waves his hand in the familiar arcs that created snow from the small pieces of wood he picked up from the ground. In the time since the wererat incident he had finally translated a passage giving him insight into the art of transmutation. He was enjoying the benefits from his new found abilities practicing turning matter from one form into another. "You see, nothing to it!" he adds with a smirk.

"What do we know of this Witchwood?" he asks aloud as they continue their walk.

I limp along behind the rest of the group, largely keeping my own council. My thoughts have turned darker since breathing in the essence of the werecreatures we had fought at the tower. Corban's lack of maturity and constant needling has been especially grating and more than once I've thought about speaking in demonic foul enough to give him a migraine. Only realizing that the resulting lecture from Kaiakas prevent the less pleasant aspects of my impulses under control.

"I'll clear out the hound!" Corban raises his Shield, and draws his sword while rushing over to the hell hound. "I'm sorry, pup" he says as he thrusts with his longsword.

Sword and shield at the ready, I spin toward the unnatural stench of the hellhound and drive my sword tip at its throat.

I point to the Hobgoblin nearest to Xara and bark a single word "Grovel" it slides out of my mouth to surround the creature in the form of demonic commands.

---

ooc: casting Command for it to grovel which makes it drop prone and end its turn if it fails a will save of 12

"ZARIS!" Corban bellows as the arrow strikes his old friend. Corban curses as he realizes that the archers are a little too far for his comfort. Going to have to study harder, a fire bolt would be useful about now... Corban thinks to himseld. "Find some cover Zaris!" Corban rushes down the hill, and, sword dancing in a whirling rage, strikes at the nearest hobgoblin engaged with Xara and Rurik.

Corban will attack, then use action surge to attack again. If the first falls he'll move to the next target...

I notice the hobgoblins with bows and move to engage with them. I keep my shield ready to protect from any incoming projectiles during my move. I will cut down the first hobgoblin I meet.
[ooc: rolls for next round's attack.]

I snort derisively at the hobgoblin, watching the fool scrambling. "Yer not worth the effort". I drop my hand to my side and pull the crossbow up pulling the trigger dismissively, not even bothering to finely aim, or even sully my dark gifts on the wretch

Zaris screams out in agony as the arrow lodges itself into his shoulder. He staggers back a few steps, his mind becoming cloudy from the pain. He looks at Corban and shrugs before stumbling into the thickest part of the trees he can find. He collapses down and pulls a small piece of leather from his pack. He bites down hard and tries to pull the arrow from his flesh and then chants as coherently as he can holding the piece of leather to his chest.

OOC. Casting mage armor. AC = 15 for the next 8 hours.